The Body in the Box Room

by L. A. Nisula

  Inspector Wainwright gave me a long look, probably deciding if that last comment had been a question or if I knew more than I should. He settled for, “As I said, he’s known to us, and we found the connection between him and Mr. Fetherton early on. Returning to Miss Hayes, Miss Prynne said she decided she wanted to know who the young woman who was leading Mr. Fetherton astray was—apparently Mr. Fetherton was not capable of straying on his own—and set out to follow her.”

  “How does she say she found her?” I’d done it through Mr. Hargrove, but Milly hadn’t grasped his importance until I pointed it out, and I doubted she would have known to use him as a source, even fictitiously.

  “That is the first of many holes in her story. After her brilliant and mysterious feat of deduction, she located Miss Hayes and began following her across London. Would you like to see the full list of their day’s activities?”

  I could imagine the sorts of things Milly would say. A combination of shopping and restaurants she’d been to on some occasion and ridiculous adventures like a stroll through a rookery backstreet to a mysterious door or a visit to some obscure cemetery to lay flowers on an empty tomb. “I believe we can skip that part, as we can be certain none of them actually occurred.”

  “You’re certain you wouldn’t like to check on a few of them? Naturally we are required to check every part of her story for evidence we can use.”

  I felt rather bad for the constables stuck with that pointless job. “So how did her pursuit of Miss Hayes end in murder?”

  “She followed her around town and finally to Mrs. Fetherton’s home. Miss Hayes entered—no, we did not find a key or other means for her to enter the house or a reason why she would do so—and Miss Prynne went around to the box-room window to see what was going on inside. Apparently she had a flash of inspiration that Miss Hayes would make directly for the rarely used box room. Miss Hayes spotted her through the window, a fight ensued—again, no reason they fought, although I assume it was over Mr. Fetherton—and Miss Hayes was strangled with the drapery cord and died.”

  I considered that version of events. “The footprints in the garden were too small to be Milly’s.”

  “And it would be highly unlikely for Miss Hayes to have fallen where she did if she’d been strangled through the window, although not impossible, I’m told.”

  “But you’re holding Milly.”

  “Until I have a better suspect, I am holding her, yes. Believe me, as soon as I can release her to your custody, I will.”

  I had to admit there wasn’t much Inspector Wainwright could do if Milly kept insisting that she was guilty unless he found proof she had nothing to do with it. At least he was a thorough investigator. I doubted Milly realized how many others at Scotland Yard would have taken her confession at face value and considered the case closed. I got up from the chair. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, then.”

  “You don’t wish to visit your cousin?” I think it was the first time Inspector Wainwright offered to let me see a suspect. I was tempted to take him up on the offer for the novelty of it, but I was too annoyed with Milly, and strangling my cousin while actually in Scotland Yard would be very difficult to get away with.

  “If she changes her mind and decides she didn’t do it, then I might be interested in talking to her.”

  Inspector Wainwright nodded and returned to his files.

  I was standing with my hand on the doorknob when something else struck me as odd.

  “And I suppose you’ve checked her alibi? The one she gave you the evening it happened.”

  “I have someone working on it. And on yours, and the Fethertons’.” He did not seem inclined to share the information with me.

  As I doubted Mrs. Fetherton would tell me, it was worth trying to get that information out of him. I adjusted my hat and tugged on my gloves, thinking that seeing I was planning on leaving would put him in a better mood. “And where was Mrs. Fetherton that afternoon?”

  “With her son.” From the dry way he said it, I could tell he didn’t think he was giving me anything useful. He quickly read in my expression that that wasn’t the case. “You’re surprised.”

  “I thought he’d spent the day with Milly, but then I don’t think either of them actually told me that.”

  “Then Miss Prynne seems to be in need of an alibi herself. Good day.”

  There didn’t seem to be any more information to be had, so I reached for the doorknob, only to have it pulled out of my hand as the door was flung open dramatically and one of the last people I wanted to see at the moment stood there. Randall Fetherton. From Inspector Wainwright’s expression, he was no happier to see Randall than I was. He also didn’t object when I stepped back and resumed my seat. Apparently I was useful as a barrier between him and Randall.

  “Why have you done it?” Randall asked with drama worthy of a fifth-rate theater production. He seemed ready to launch into a full tirade when Inspector Wainwright cut him off.

  “Until I know the antecedent of that pronoun, I will not be able to give you a proper reply.”

  Randal stopped short and stared at Inspector Wainwright. It seemed confusing Randall was a good way to shut him up. I filed that away for future use. When Randall realized Inspector Wainwright wasn’t going to explain himself, he turned to me with a pleading look.

  “He wants to know what you mean by ‘it.’”

  “Oh, I thought it was obvious.” Randall flopped into the other guest chair—which I knew from experience had uneven legs and a tendency to wobble—and looked helplessly at me. “I meant why did he arrest Milly.”

  “Miss Prynne made a full confession this morning,” Inspector Wainwright answered.

  Randall’s head snapped around. Apparently he hadn’t realized Inspector Wainwright could still hear him talking. “But she couldn’t have. I know she didn’t do it.”

  “And how do you know that, Mr. Fetherton? Do you have personal knowledge of how the murder was committed?”

  Randall looked imploringly at me. I stayed silent. There was no way he couldn’t know what Inspector Wainwright was getting at, and if he was innocent, he could get himself out of this.

  Randall fidgeted in his chair for a moment, then he said, “Didn’t she tell you? I mean I would never do anything to hurt her. Millicent and I are meant to be together. I knew from the first moment. That’s why we were out together the whole afternoon. I’m sure she’s as concerned about her reputation as I am, but considering the circumstances, I don’t see that it would hurt to tell you we were looking into getting a license. If you’d give me a moment alone with her, I’m sure I could convince her that there’s no point in hiding it any longer.”

  “A license?” Inspector Wainwright asked. “What were you two going to do? Fish?”

  I bit my lip and stared hard at the paperweight on the edge of the desk, although that led to imagining it making contact with Randall’s skull and speculation on what Inspector Wainwright would do should that happen. I was beginning to see why my friend Inspector Burrows liked Inspector Wainwright.

  Randall stared. “What do you think a gentleman is planning when he goes looking to get a license with a lady?”

  Inspector Wainwright snorted, clearly out of patience.

  I leaned over and murmured, “You should have said ‘Mildred.’ Milly’s name is Mildred.”

  “Isn’t that what I said?”

  “No,” Inspector Wainwright and both answered then pretended we had not been simultaneous.

  “Well, what does it matter, really?”

  Inspector Wainwright closed his notebook. “I would think you would know the name of the woman you wanted to marry. And if you had gotten as far as license forms, you’d have seen it written out.”

  “And how do you know it?” he snapped.

  Inspector Wainwright wouldn’t be baited. “Her arrest papers.”

  Randall turned to glare at me.

  I said, “I’m her cousin,” just in case he thought to imply there
was something suspicious in me knowing Milly’s full name.

  Inspector Wainwright picked up his pen. “Now, would you like to tell me where you actually were, or should I take this desire to formulate an alibi as a sign that you are in dire need of one?”

  “Maybe I thought she needed one.”

  “Perhaps, but I’m inclined to think you are the one in need, seeing as you care so much for her you forgot her actual name.”

  Randall got to his feet. “I came here to help you, but it seems I am not going to be appreciated. You will tell Milly I called.”

  “I’ll have the butler take your card to her,” Inspector Wainwright said without looking up from his notes.

  For a moment I thought Randall was actually going to hand him a card, then he turned on his heel and stormed out, or stormed as much as he was able, considering the chairs in Inspector Wainwright’s office took up almost all of the space between his desk and the door. I’d never found Scotland Yard offices to be particularly spacious.

  Inspector Wainwright stared at his notes until he heard the door close, then he leaned back in his chair. I wasn’t certain if he realized I was still in the office, so I said something to let him know. “That’s not the worst of her gentlemen callers.”

  Inspector Wainwright snorted in a way that suggested he wasn’t convinced.

  “Back home, she had one who insisted he had been the business manager for all of the big families in town. It turned out he’d worked for almost all of them at one time or another, as an under-footman, and was fired every time when a bit of jewelry went missing. Then there was the policeman who arrested her twice; he was married. And Mr. Winkleford, also married.”

  “No murderers yet.”

  “No, that was someone else.”

  Inspector Wainwright looked up but didn’t say anything.

  “So I do have an interesting family.”

  “You’ve never met my aunt.”

  I waited for him to expand on that, but he didn’t say anything else about the aunt. I was wondering if it would be worth questioning Inspector Burrows about it when he said, “Still think I wanted to arrest your cousin, Miss Pengear?”

  I countered with, “Still think I want to investigate this case?”

  Inspector Wainwright almost smiled. “Would you like me to have a cab called?”

  I could imagine how thrilled one of the constables would be to be pulled away from their work to find me a cab, although if their work was tracking down Milly’s made-up afternoon... “I think I can manage. Good day.” This time, I managed to leave the office before any new problems appeared.

  As I made my way out of the warren of offices, I considered my next move. Alibis. I was certain whatever Milly had told Inspector Wainwright she’d done that day was a complete fabrication, but there were other people with alibis, and surely some of those could be verified or broken. Randall was hopeless, and I’d seen more than enough of him for one day, so the best place to start seemed to be with the other residents of 24 Rusham Street. And even if I had no luck breaking alibis, there had to be something at number 24. Some reason Miss Hayes had been there, some clue as to how she got in, something. It seemed the best place to start looking.

  Chapter 9

  WHEN NORA OPENED THE DOOR, she seemed surprised to see me on the doorstep, but she let me in directly and went to announce me to Mrs. Fetherton. I half-expected her to be as tired of the case as I was and turn me away, but Nora was back in a moment and led me through to the sitting room.

  Mrs. Fetherton didn’t look pleased to see me, but she didn’t seem openly hostile either. I supposed that was the best that I could hope for. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  “I’m not sure why...”

  “Perhaps you heard that my cousin was arrested this morning. They seem to think she murdered Miss Hayes.”

  “Why on earth would she?”

  “Jealousy, they think, over Mr. Fetherton.”

  “Well, he is quite the charmer, even if he is a naughty boy.”

  That wasn’t quite how I would describe him, but I held my tongue. I also didn’t think I’d get any information out of her about alibis or anything else, so I focused on my second reason for coming to number 24. “So, I was hoping I could take another look at the box room. Maybe I would see something the police missed.”

  “I don’t see what. I’m sure they’re quite good at their job.”

  Clearly she didn’t want anyone else poking around in her storeroom. I couldn’t really say I blamed her. “I’m sure they were thorough. Did they tell you how she got the window open?”

  Mrs. Fetherton looked surprised. “No, they didn’t. Do you think it’s important?”

  “It could be. You seem to have a very good lock on the window. I was wondering how she managed to defeat it. She didn’t seem like a professional thief.”

  That piqued Mrs. Fetherton’s interest. “Do you think you could tell?”

  “I’d like to try.”

  “I suppose that would be a good idea. Come along.”

  I hurried to follow her before she changed her mind.

  The box room had not changed much since the last time I had been there. I went straight to the window that had been open that night and started examining it, beginning with the glass, which was undamaged, then to the wooden sill, and finally looking at the locking mechanism. It all seemed in proper order. I opened the window and examined the sill again, then boosted myself outside to look from that angle. There were no gouges or scrapes or signs that someone had tried to pry the window open. I climbed back in.

  “What do you think?” Mrs. Fetherton asked from her place by the desk.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t see anything, but I’m not an expert. Would you mind terribly if I had a friend come to look at this?”

  “I’m not sure there’s much point.”

  I gestured to the locking system. “Do you keep this engaged?”

  “Always. As a lady living alone, I find it comforting.”

  “I don’t see any sign of tampering, but I’m not an expert. And I don’t think Miss Hayes was either. I have a friend who’s a tinkerer. I’d like her to take a look and tell me how she thinks Miss Hayes was able to get into the room at all.”

  “You mean how she was able to trip the lock from outside? That would be good to know. And this friend could tell me what she thinks happened and how to fix it? I had the man who installed it come out to look, but he said everything was fine.”

  I saw a way to get her to help. “Yes, she’d tell us both, and then you could arrange to get it fixed. She could probably do something about those safes too, although Inspector Wainwright would probably want to be here when they’re opened.”

  “Oh, no, I have some ideas for where to find the combinations. But the window might be worth having someone look at.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have her come as soon as possible.” I didn’t want Mrs. Fetherton changing her mind before I got Kate here. I could tell Mrs. Fetherton was waiting for me to leave now that she’d shown me what I wanted to see. There didn’t seem to be a way to ask her where she’d been that afternoon without getting myself thrown out, but perhaps Nora would know. And I did need to find out where she’d been as well. “Would you mind if I had a word with Nora? Maybe she remembers something from that day.”

  “I suppose there’s no harm in it. She’s in the kitchen. I’ll ring for her.”

  And listen in on my questioning, no doubt. “No, I’m sure she’s busy, and I don’t want to bother her. Would you mind if I went down and spoke to her there?”

  “I suppose, if you don’t mind.”

  “Thank you. I don’t want to put you out; I remember the way.” I hurried towards the kitchen stairs before she could insist on seeing me down.

  Nora was in the kitchen heating something over the stove. She jumped when I came down, and I wondered if she had ordered in food and was merely warming and plating it to hide the fact. “Hello, Nora.”

  “H
ello, Miss Pengear. Did you need something?”

  “I was just trying to find out where everybody was on Wednesday. In case there was something Inspector Wainwright missed.”

  “Oh.”

  When she didn’t offer, I prodded a little. “Where were you before Randall brought us over?”

  She took my question quite literally. “I was fixing dinner here and then tidying up.”

  “And before? In the afternoon?”

  “I went to the Delphie Tea Room, same as I do every Wednesday.” That was the same thing she had told Inspector Wainwright, so likely true, but I pushed a bit anyway. “That’s quite a fancy establishment.”

  “It is, but Mrs. Fetherton wanted me to better myself, so she gave me money to go so I could see how the ladies there serve the food and how they conduct themselves.”

  “That is very generous of her. And quite good for you, as the police will be able to check their records and see what time you were there.” I waited to see her reaction.

  “Yes miss, of course, the inspector said he would. Only, well I use another name when I go there. Miss Smythe. I think it sounds ever so much more elegant. But he seemed to think that would make it harder to check. Of course, I didn’t know I’d be needing to use it as an alibi, now did I?”

  “I see. And what time did you return home?”

  “Just in time to start on the dinner. Mrs. Fetherton will tell you I wasn’t late.”

  “I’m sure you weren’t. And did you meet anyone there?”

  “Oh no, miss, just had tea and scones like I’m supposed to and, well, maybe a bit of cake as she was paying for it, then came straight home.”

  She certainly seemed to find the idea that she came straight home important. I wondered if it was a distraction from something else, or if Mrs. Fetherton or some other employer had drilled the notion of punctuality into her head. In either case, Nora kept glancing back at the pans on the hob, so I knew she wanted to return to her cooking, and I doubted she would tell me anything else, but I tried one last time. “Is there anything you can think of? My cousin was arrested and I’m trying to help her.”